


Rivalry

by Willow_River



Series: Love and Fear [10]
Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: Baking, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-04 09:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5328944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willow_River/pseuds/Willow_River
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Also known as the Undercover Bakeoff.<br/>Thog and Dont seem to disagree on which is better, pie or cake. When Ashe makes an offhanded comment that Dont's baking is better, what sort of shenanigans will ensue?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rivalry

Dont hummed happily as she pulled her latest pie out of the oven. Apple was always her favourite in the fall, and she was sure even Gregor would love this one. She’d made extra sure not to put too much sugar in it, just for him, though she’d used the sweetest apples she could find to make up for it.

Turning into her humanoid form, she pulled on her jacket and set the pie into a wicker basket, tucking a cloth over it to keep it warm. The weather was nice out, nippy but not too cold, and the sun was shining beautifully over the water as Dont rowed her way to the island of Nine Shrines.

“Hi, everyone!” she sang out, holding her basket aloft as she skipped into the bar. “I made pie~”

Ashe and Markus both looked up instantly, the former giving the tiefling a mild warning glare before settling down again.

“It’s not poison pie, I promise. It’s apple!”

Gregor looked over curiously, though didn’t make any move towards asking for a slice as the young pigbat cut the pie for everyone. Ashe brought out a pot of fresh cream that one of the other spiritfolk had brought earlier and proceeded to spoon some onto her and Markus’ slices. Thog just leaned against the far side of the counter, scowling into his whiskey. Kyr wasn’t around, not that Dont complained.

“Do you want some, Gregor?” Dont offered to the small brunette. She held out a thin slice of pie towards the boy, smiling hopefully. “I didn’t put as much sugar in this one, so it’s healthier.”

“Hmm, okay. I can always do some extra push ups later,” he complied, accepting the plate from his pigbat friend. Dont was happy to see Gregor’s smile when he tried the pie. “It’s good.”

“Aren’t you going to try some, Thog?” Ashe asked, sitting beside Markus and trying to keep her slice of pie away from the tiefling’s thieving fork. “It’s really good.”

Thog gave a brief glance towards the others before turning back to his drink. “No.”

“Come on, Thog,” Markus joined in. “Are you against pie or something?” The sorcelock took a second slice and held it up to the grouchy black-haired man.

“What if I am?” Thog glared.

“Oka~y, backing off now.” Markus retreated to his seat beside Ashe once again.

“What do you mean you don’t like pie?” Dont protested. “That’s crazy talk. Nothing’s better than pie.”

“Yeah, come on, Thog,” Ashe laughed, “pie’s great. Or are you just jealous because Dont’s a better baker?” 

Thog raised an eyebrow at this remark, but said nothing more. Instead, he got up and left the bar, choosing to fume quietly on his own for a while.

 

A few days later, Ashe entered the bar to find Markus, Kyr, and Gregor eating some freshly baked muffins. They smelled amazing and made her mouth water. 

“Good morning, Aesling,” Markus turned to greet her with a broad smile as the squeaky door hinges announced her presence. “Did you sleep well?” He gave her a peck on the cheek and offered her a muffin when she sat down beside him.

“Yeah, actually, I did. Did Dont bring these over? She’s not usually here so early.” Ashe took a bite of her muffin. It was warm and buttery and tasted like carrot. “Man, these are good today.”

“No, Dont hasn’t been in yet. Thog left them on the counter first thing then left. He looked pretty tired.”

“What? Thog made these?” Although Ashe was astounded by this revelation, she couldn’t help but remember the cake that the rogue had baked for her not that long ago.

“Pretty sure I heard someone futzing around in the kitchen really early this morning,” Kyr muffled around a mouthful of muffin, “and it wasn’t me this time. Haven’t seen Thog at all.”

“Hmm.” Ashe pondered over the rest of her muffin, then decided to drop the matter.

Dont appeared later, just around lunch time, with sweet rolls and was rather surprised to see everyone already enjoying hot pasties. Gregor and Markus explained to her about that morning as Kyr took his lunch down to the basement, forgetting for a moment that he and Markus had already cleared all the lab equipment from it days ago.

Ashe kept quiet. She didn’t mention to anyone how the pasties, which had all been labeled whom each was for, had appeared shortly before Thog disappeared again. She didn’t mention how the kitchen door had been locked for most of the day. She also didn’t mention how the filling in hers reminded her of a stew her father used to make sometimes back home.

“I think Thog’s challenging you, Dont,” Markus stated nonchalantly.

“Oh, he is, is he?” Dont’s eyes flashed mischievously. 

“Is this going to turn into a battle of pie versus cake?” Gregor asked. “Because I don’t know if that many sweets is going to be good for anyone.”

“I can make savoury pies, Gregor.”

Everyone thanked Dont for the sweet rolls after they finished eating. Ashe decided to go train with Gregor for a while, to avoid dwelling on things like home or why Thog made her pasty so special.

 

As the days continued, the gang kept finding more baked goods appear ‘mysteriously’ at the bar. Markus and Kyr would sometimes confront Thog about it, but he’d always respond with hostility or avoid the question entirely, usually by going out on his own. Most days, the group found themselves with more pastries than they knew what to do with, especially when the pigbat’s contributions were added. 

Ashe would sometimes find special treats set aside just for her, usually on days when she’d tend to avoid the others or seemed more withdrawn than usual. One time it was linzer cookies, and another time it was raspberry meringues, and yet another time there were miniature cupcakes with green icing on top. She appreciated the gifts, though she felt rather unsure about the reason behind them. Markus asked her about them sometimes, but she usually just responded with a shrug and offered to share some with him. He didn’t complain.

Sometimes Thog would, in a roundabout way, ask how the baked goods were. Markus always knew that the man was really wondering whose pastries were more popular. The truth was, it was a tie. Dont was a master with pie, and Thog was more than skilled when it came to cakes. Everything else they made was more or less on par with each other.

Then the shenanigans began.

One day, Dont brought lavender honey cookies while complaining that all her sugar had gone missing (though she’d just substituted more honey to make up for it). The next day, no one in the bar could find the nutmeg or cinnamon. The result was a rather bland batch of gingerbread. Thog and Dont seemed to glare more intensely at each other every time the pigbat came over.

The worst incident was when all the sugar in the bar was inexplicably replaced with salt. Markus and Ashe were rather shocked to have salty coffee that morning, and Thog’s sugar cookies were nigh inedible.

Finally, everyone had had enough. 

“That’s it!” Ashe announced the next time Dont and Thog were staring each other down. “This is getting ridiculous. We have more baked goods than we know what to do with, we’re all sick of cake, half our spices are missing, and Gregor’s been exercising almost non-stop for the past week to make up for eating so much. Figure out how you’re going to settle this feud or take it somewhere else!”

Thog was about to protest, when a glare from Ashe cut him off.

“How about a bakeoff!” Kyr suggested enthusiastically. “Pie verses cakes. Whoever makes the best confection wins!” Then in a mutter he added, “I’m voting for cakes preemptively because stupid Dont and her stupid pies…” The rest was lost in incomprehensible grumbling. Dont glared at the big redhead.

“I’m up for any challenge,” Dont stated frankly, crossing her arms. “But Thog has to give back my sugar. And my good whisk!”

Thog grumbled something in Cant, pulled a bag of sugar and a whisk out from under the counter, and chucked them at the pigbat. “Fine, I’ll do it. But if I win, she has to stop talking about how great her f****** pie is all the d*** time.”

The flower theatre made for a perfect stage to present the final products on. Everyone on the Shrouded Isles came for a slice of pie or cake. Thog and Dont had each holed up in their respective kitchens to prepare their confections. The pair stepped onto the stage, glaring at each other, and placed the covered platters on the table that had been set up. Everyone gathered around to see what had been made, anticipation thick in the air. 

Dont uncovered her platter first with a flourish, revealing the most delectably scented wildberry and lavender pie. It was garnished with sparkling sugar and mint leaves, with little pigbat shapes cut out around the edge of the sweet crust. Dont looked rather pleased with herself, though there was still berry syrup on one of her ears from the test version that she’d practiced on the night before to get the flavour balance right. Those nearest the stage crowded closer to get a whiff.

Thog carefully lifted the lid off his own platter. He’d made a gorgeous three-layered tres leches cake with lemon frosting. How he’d obtained the lemons, no one knew, nor dared to ask. The man was clearly sleep-deprived and very cranky looking. Markus could have told stories about the failed cakes that had come before this one: a kouign amann that was forgotten on the counter when it needed to see the fridge, a mille foille that met its end before it even started as a result of Kyr and Markus unwittingly stealing what they’d thought was regular pancake batter, and a chocolate torte that was sadly never meant to be. The tiefling knew full well that Thog hadn’t slept in two days and that the bar’s supply of flour was now non-existent.

Charoth, Kyl’il, and Xandal were chosen to judge, given that they were the most impartial. They were each given a slice of cake and a slice of pie. Long minutes were spent in anticipation as the judges tasted and re-tasted the confections, deliberating silently over which they preferred.

Finally, the three spirits were ready to give their verdicts. Kyl’il chose Thog’s cake for it’s creamy texture and subtle flavours. Xandal chose Dont’s pie for the perfect consistency of the filling and excellent crust. Charoth was silent for a few minutes more, looking from one dish to the other. The crowd held a collective breath as they awaited the little death god’s answer. 

Finally, the little white mask turned up to look at everyone, and its stick was raised. There was a sense that the little spirit might have said something profound, if it could have been bothered to speak, and then Charoth pointed to the cake. 

There were gasps of surprise and little claps of congratulations at the verdict. Thog looked genuinely shocked before turning to Dont and giving her a smug grin. He didn’t stay to bask in his glory, though. Instead, he shambled back to the bar, went upstairs to his room, locked the door, and had a nice long sleep.


End file.
